Without preparation, a wizard is as vulnerable as the species they belong to. That means I have the same weakness that every human in existence has, meaning that bullets are fatal if they hit the right parts of my body. In order for me to prepare, I need to draw in a force I like to call essence.
Truth be told, it has been called by a few dozen names throughout the years depending on the culture or the class of wizard drawing it in.
Mana.
Elixir.
Vitae.
There are way more names for it than is necessary. The only thing you need to know is that I need to draw it in to use my magic.
No essence. No magic. It's a very simple equation when it comes down to it.
Essence is a force that exists in every living being. That includes plants and other sentient forms of life. Drawing it in is much like taking a deep breath, but using your mind instead of your lungs. The difference between a wizard's brain and a normal human brain is the receptors that allow for essence extraction. That means it is possible to be a wizard with low intelligence, unlike what you learned in your last Dungeons and Dragons campaign.
The gene isn't specific to a healthy brain either. In fact, some of the strongest wizards throughout history would have been considered autistic by today's standards. The thought of this kind of power in someone with that level of focus is terrifying.
I opened my mind and drew in as much essence as possible, which wasn't much thanks to the steel doors and concrete walls. I didn't have enough to do anything fancy, but it would give me some cover.
I waved my arms around and created a thick, misty fog to help cover my escape. It wouldn't protect me from their bullets, but it would make me difficult to see.
I ran down the stars, stopping long enough to open and slam the third floor door. I hoped it would be enough to draw one of them off my trail. Stopping the bullets from one gun is hard enough without adding a second into the mix.
Once I was safely on the ground floor, I drew in as much essence as my body would allow. You wouldn't want to make a long car trip without an empty gas tank any more than I wanted to face two thugs with empty reserves. My only complaint is not getting the same kind of mileage. Spell use tends to drain my reserve quickly.
I took a few moments to ponder my next move. One option has me taking the back door and making a run for it. This one would leave my back exposed as I ran across the parking lot. It would also put me in plain view of anyone else who was here looking for me.
The second one has me heading to the front, which would allow me to hide inside, but I could potentially back myself into a corner.
Neither option was optimal, but the second was the better of the two.
Before I made my run, I created a shield around my body, focusing most of the essence to my backside as I ran towards the lobby.
Wizard shields work the same way the shields work on Star Trek ships. In its normal form, it will protect my whole body equally, but in a pinch I can divert some of it around to cover a weakened point. It doesn't take any extra time to move it around in this manner though it uses extra essence.
Gunfire erupted well before I got to the lobby, knocking out my shield after a pair of direct hits. I ducked off into a dark conference room to recover.
I decided against repairing the shield since it would use too much of my dwindling reserves. Being able to block a few bullets is only worth the essence cost if you are on the run. The moment you find yourself backed into a corner, you are much better off going onto the offensive.
Near the doorway, there were two large potted trees that cast a shadow into the room until the door shut behind me. Being strong with earth, I weave a spell focused on the plant. This spell is one of my favorites for many reasons.
One, it can disable a threat without taking it out. I'm not fond of violence, only using it when absolutely necessary to save my life or the life of another. Second, there are plenty of times when you need to get some answers. People sent to take you out usually have some idea about who they work for. Enough that you want to keep them alive for a while longer.
Within moments of casting my spell, there was a fine layer of vegetation covering the carpet just inside the door. Thankfully it didn't get close enough that it would be immediately visible by anyone entering the room or I would've been in trouble.
I pushed myself back into the back corner of the room when the door to the conference room opened. One of the men I saw earlier entered the room, making it about four steps when he screamed. He dropped the gun to the ground as he fought to keep the vines from encompassing his body. I stood quietly in the corner of the room while they did their work, silencing the man a minute later.
Now that one thug was down, I left the room using one of the service doors I saw when he opened the door. I could've stayed in this room for a while, but the vines, now agitated, would continue to grow. Once you give them a taste of life, they will wrap up anything they can get their hands on. Even the wizard that gave them life.
The door led into a hallway with a red tile floor covered with a spongy rubber mat. To my right was the swinging metal door with a glass window that led to the kitchen. The chef on the other side moved in and out of view, oblivious to my presence. I had to get a move on quick though, there was no telling when another worker was going to come by.
There was a commotion coming from the other side of the hallway, leading towards the lobby. No doubt it was hotel security scouring the place looking for the shooter. I could already see their surprise when they find the one I left them wrapped up in the conference room. With any luck they'd find the other guy so I can get out of here.
I walked down the hall until I came on a set of solid double doors, topping off my essence before I went through. The other man, tall with a black tee shirt and a worn set of blue jeans was on the other side of the door, the revolver in his right hand reflecting the light as he moved towards me.
Not wanting to give him a chance to fire at me, I shot a blast of force into his chest, sending him flying back into a recliner in the lobby. I wish I had a better option, but the restrictions on magic make things difficult. Just to be clear, killing someone isn't the problem, its using magic to do it. The council has strict rules in place regarding the use of magic, even in self-defense.
Normally, I carry another weapon with me in case I run into a situation like this, but I left my sword back in my room. I wasn't expecting to be attacked when I walked outside.
A shot rang out once I was in the parking lot so I turned around and created a deflection construct to protect me from his bullets. In the tight confines of a building, a shield is a much better option since it covers your whole body from every direction. Out here in the parking lot, facing the one man, I could focus my efforts in one direction.
The front door of the lobby burst open, the man in the black shirt leveled his gun and fired again. Not getting close, the bullets ricocheted off my spell, shattering the windows of a nearby Ford truck.
Three shots later, when his gun was empty, I released my deflection spell and force pushed him into the door before he could reload. I then ran as hard as I could back to my car. I pulled the key ring off my belt buckle, jiggled them in the lock, and opened my trunk, filled with all sorts of goodies for my trip. An extra suitcase full of clothes, just in case someone broke into my hotel room again. A full two-gallon gas can, just in case I forgot to fill up. And finally my spare sword.
You can never doubt I came prepared.
By the time he got off the ground and reloaded his revolver, I had my sword out and ready. I waited until he was well into the parking lot before making my next move. I knelt down and placed my palm on the ground before sending a wave of magic into the earth. The spell sent a ripple in the pavement, forcing him to grab onto a nearby car to avoid falling over. Then I sent another wave of force into his chest which sent him down to the ground, his weapon clanged down the parking lot now free from his hand.
To finish things
off, I created one last spell large enough to cover the whole parking lot in a dense fog the consistency of pea soup. I waited long enough for the spell to flow out into the nearby roadway before I ran at the thug and stuck the pointy end of my sword into his chest.
The council may frown upon using magic to kill, but they don't care about killing someone like this. Even if you use your magic to allow it. It's a weird rule, but you learn to work around it with enough time.
I left the body on the parking lot and his gun lying a few feet away. I wish I had more time to get rid of the body on the pavement, but there wouldn't be much time before the police arrived to investigate. Running back to my car, I threw my sword into the trunk, not bothering to clean the blood off the blade or even conceal it before I ran back to my room.
As the fog lifted, I saw a car in a nearby parking lot with the most boastful license plate I've ever seen.
T3C4N0
It didn't leave me with any doubt who was in that car.
- 7 -
I rushed up to my room to gather all my belongings to get the hell out here. The hotel was the last place I wanted to be when the cops showed up to ask questions. Having a friend on the force would only help so much if they found the bloody sword in my car or the one concealed in a walking stick up in my room.
With everything in hand, I created a wall of wind to bring me down to the ground safely. The lights in the parking lot came back on as I threw the last of my things in the back seat.
So much for leaving in the cover of darkness. Considering the sirens were still ways off, I had some time to get out of there.
I jerked the wheel, nearly slamming into a street sign when my phone rang.
"Gilmore here."
"What is happening there?" Trevor said, clearly heated. "They have every available officer heading your way."
"I think our little friend paid me a visit. Ended up leaving two of his goons back at the hotel."
"Bodies?"
"Just one this time. You should be able to question the other," I said. "You may want to have someone remove the plants in the precinct though. Something tells me he might be afraid of them now." I tried not to laugh at my last statement, but it was difficult.
"Now I remember why I stopped working with you," he said. "You can't work without leaving a mess."
"No offense, Trevor, but I would rather be kicking back in the hotel's hot tub then driving around chasing your madman."
He was silent for a moment. "You left the scene?"
"Wasn't going to wait around for your police buddies to pin the blame on me. Besides, I think I found the guy crashing your cars," I said. "I need you to look up a license plate."
He sighed. "Fine. What is it?"
I gave him the plate followed by an explanation as to what it stands for. I would have figured he would have been better at decoding vanity plates after his time on the force. I can't say I was much better, but this one spoke for itself.
"I'll check it out," he said. "Give me a few hours."
"Sounds good. Just send the address to my phone when you get it."
"What are you going to do now?" he asked.
"Gonna grab a burger and a large coffee. Sounds like it's going to be a long night."
I was on my fifth cup of coffee when the text came in. From the looks, our little friend lived in a house on 21st street. I dropped a twenty on the table to pay for my food and a tip and walked out of the diner and to my car.
It took about fifteen minutes to get to the house. It was a large single-family ranch house with brick all the way around with an asphalt driveway leading to a detached garage in the back. The house would have fit in well in about any community if it wasn't for the collection of garden gnomes decorating the lawn. There wasn't any cars in the driveway or any lights in the house, which led me to believe that nobody was home.
Before I walked up the driveway, I cast a spell primarily made of earth with a little wind to block the motion sensor. It was a spell I mastered a few months back to help me get a better look around. The last thing you want in my line of work is to be seen snooping around.
I followed the driveway to the garage behind the house. The garage doors were of the vinyl roll up variety without any way to look inside, but upon quick inspection I noticed a set of windows on either side of the garage. One faced a eight foot tall wooden privacy fence and the other an aboveground pool. Something told me the windows were more about ventilation than practicality, but I was glad they were there.
Against my better judgment, I went to the window facing the privacy fence since it kept me out of sight of the neighbors. The gap was about fifteen inches wide, being generous, forcing me to wiggle my way to the window slowly. Finally at the window, I wedged myself between the wall and the fence to boost myself up.
Through the window there is a faint light shining right below the window, coming from what looked to be a tool bench. There were tools and lawn equipment scattered along the floor, with a bare spot in the middle large enough for a car.
My little friend must have made a pit stop on the way home for me to beat him here.
I was nearly out of the gap when the soft glow of light illuminated the spot I was in. The approaching car stopped at the bottom of the driveway, which was enough to tell me I had been seen. There are a handful of spells I could have cast had I known he was coming though none of them can be cast in such a tight space.
Before I wiggled out of the gap, the car backed out of the driveway, squealing its tires as it tore down the street. I pulled myself out of the hole and followed behind at a full sprint, no longer caring if the motion sensors triggered or not. I Called upon the power of wind to create a gust at my back, allowing me to run even faster. It wouldn't help me catch the car, but it would keep it in my vision long enough for me to get to mine.
The car was nearly to the end of the street when I stepped on my gas pedal to follow him.
Real car chases are nothing like the ones you see on TV. I enjoyed watching the Fast and the Furious series as much as the next person, but no amount of watching them drift through the streets will ever help me in real life. The only advantage I had, that they didn't, was a lack of traffic on the streets thanks to it being somewhere around two in the morning.
I've always been fond of this time of the day. Unless you ran into a vampire or two, it is much more pleasant than being out during the day. Especially the morning. There are loads of people who claim to be 'morning people' who really aren't. They are nothing more than the living zombies that go to work 5 days a week like society has taught us to. The people who are out at this time of day are much more pleasant and don't require extra stimulation to operate. That's not to say you don't run into the druggies and boozers at this time of day, but you are just as likely to do it earlier.
After three rapid turns, I wished I spent more time with Trevor over the last few years because I was completely lost. Left turn, right, left. Before too long I couldn't even tell the direction I was heading, only that I couldn't allow the tail lights of the car to leave my sight.
Nearly twenty minutes into the chase we came up on a set of railroad tracks, the warning lights sending waves of red light flashing through the night air. I glanced to the left and saw the freight train heading my way. Normally, I'm against racing across the tracks in front of an approaching train, but I'd lose the car if I didn't. If that happened, I'd be back at square one.
The seconds dragged on as I closed in, my gas pedal completely on the floor. This was the point I wish I hadn't talked my mechanic Mark out of installing a NOS kit in my car. It seemed silly at the time since I wasn't the racing type, but it would've come in handy here.
I'll promise you one thing though. He'll be installing one the second I get back home.
It wasn't long until I had to make my choice. Slam my brakes and let him get away, or stay on the gas and risk the showdown with the train. Within moments, I passed the point of no return and wished I had more time to think abou
t it.
The horn of the train blared, and it's bright light lit up my car like an Ikea store as I crashed through the fiberglass warning gate. My car lifted in the air the moment the tires hit the track, rocking my head back into the seat. I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact. The fiberglass back bumper of my car is ripped off when the train passes by, sending my careening to the left as my car clears the tracks. My head jerks, nearly hitting the steering wheel when the car slams down onto the pavement, sending a spray of sparks into the night air.
I thanked the one above for my fortunes and carried on down the street. The car was definitely going to go in the shop when I got back home, but I was just happy to be alive.
Up ahead, the car turned south onto 157. I guess he got tired of playing on the side streets, opting instead to take his car on the open highway. It didn't surprise me though. His Mustang had the clear advantage by the time I crossed over the Pearl Parkway overpass.
Thirty seconds later I saw his Mustang, sitting patiently at the stoplight. I approached the car at a crawl, confused as to why he would give up here. There was no way he took me on the grand tour of Boulder just to give up there.
The light stayed red long enough for me to get a view inside as I pulled alongside the car. My eyes widened and jaw dropped slightly as I noticed the car was empty unless someone was hiding on the seats.
Before I could step out to check, my doors locked and the windows rolled up. I pulled the handle, but the door didn't budge.
Looks like my friend was closer than I thought.
I was about to cast a spell to shatter the glass when I flew into the back seat, my car apparently tired of sitting at the stoplight.
- 8 -
If you thought a high-speed chase through downtown Boulder was exciting, you should try it with a ghost driver.
Or a technomancer in my case.
Didn't exactly have this anywhere on my bucket list.
Sparked: The Nephalem Files (Book 1) Page 4
